At First Sight
by alaricnomad
Summary: Lucas/Peyton. AU. It was just supposed to be a job, a chance to make money before college started. She should have known the moment she set eyes on him it wasn't going to be that simple. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1: Unexpected Discoveries

**At First Sight**

By Alaricnomad

A/N: Don't kill me. I know what you're thinking. That I have three unfinished stories already, but I just couldn't get this out of my head, not to mention, it was practically begging to be shared with you guys. I promise- it's five parts long, and that's it. I just had to get it out of my head.

--

**Chapter One: Unexpected **

"P. Sawyer!! It's our last summer in Tree Hill! You can't seriously be telling me you're going to be spending it working some desk job."

Peyton Sawyer, glanced up at her best friend, Brooke Davis, both recent graduates of Tree Hill High, seated against her bed and pouting despondently. "C'mon, Brooke, you know how much I need to make money this summer."

"I know, but still…it should be beach, boys…shopping, boys…did I mention boys?"

Peyton laughed. "Do you think of anything else?"

Brooke grinned, falling back against the bed. "Sure, but it's been forever since you broke up with Daddy Jageleski. It's about time you got some action, girly."

Peyton caught the inflection in her friend's voice at the mention of Jake Jageleski- Peyton's most recent ex-boyfriend, still good friend, and teenage father extraordinaire. Jake was a cute, funny, warm-hearted man who had been Peyton's closest companion and lover for over a year, from the middle of their junior year until three months the end of their senior. Along with his little girl, Jenny, their relationship had been steady and loving, but eventually, the feelings between them had cooled down to a more platonic connection, and the couple parted amicably.

"You know," the blonde said, with a faux-casual air, "If you wanted to ask Jake to the beach party, it wouldn't bother me at all."

Brooke's head snapped up and she regarded her friend with an innocent, "who, me?" expression. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Peyton smirked. "Uh-huh."

Brooke rolled her eyes, "Whatever. So tell me about this job you're abandoning me for."

"For the last time, I'm not abandoning anyone. As to the job, it's some kind of transcription work." At her friend's blank look, Peyton elaborated, "They talk. I type. They talk. I type some more."

Brooke stared at her incredulously. "_That's_ what you're spending all summer doing?"

"Brooke…"

The brunette held up her hands defensively. "Okay, okay, I'll leave it. Just making sure you know what you're gonna be missing."

"Trust me. I know."

Little was Peyton Sawyer to know…no matter what she thought she would be missing, there would be more for her to experience that summer than she could have ever expected.

--

She had little to go on that following Monday when she had agreed to meet with her potential employer. She had spoken briefly on the phone with a Ms. Karen Roe, was given an address and told she could show up whenever convenient for her. And so, she found herself pulling into the driveway at nine that morning, having to double-check the address to be certain she had the right place. Her eyebrows arched in surprise as she found herself not at a business or an office, but rather in front of a home.

She shrugged it off, turning off the old Comet's ignition and making her way to the front. It didn't take long after she rang the bell for the door to open, revealing a pretty middle-aged women, slender with flowing dark hair framing a friendly smile, soft eyes. "Hello. You must be Peyton. Come on in."

Peyton obligingly followed the woman into the house, curiosity getting the better of her as she looked around. Immediately she was hit with a warm feeling of welcome. The front hall was lined with picture frames, obviously family photographs. Ms. Roe began to speak before she could take a closer look and she immediately turned her head around to face the older woman.

"I'm sorry to be so abrupt about this, dear, but I have errands to run. The one you'd be working with is my son. He's in the living room," she pointed in the room's direction, "So you go ahead. I'm sure he's waiting to talk to you."

Peyton felt rather dubious at the unusual introduction, but she nodded. "Thank you, Ms. Roe."

"Please, call me Karen. Nothing's very formal around here."

Peyton smiled. "Okay. Thank you, Karen."

"It's no trouble. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a one year old to get ready, and a garbage disposal of a family to shop for."

Peyton laughed softly and nodded again, watching the brunette head off in the other direction before making her own way to the designated living room. If the foyer had been homely in feeling, entering the main parts of the house gave even more of the atmosphere. This was a home filled with love- that much she knew.

A few moments later, Karen came striding back down the hallway, a little girl- not much more than a toddler- with a head full of dark curls, balanced at her hip. The mother gave Peyton a wave and then disappeared out the front door. After the older woman had taken her leave, the blonde turned back to the room, eyes searchingly scanning over its contours.

Her gaze fell on the room's only other occupant, sitting in a recliner at the opposite side of the room. She nearly jumped with shock of not having noticed him earlier, despite Karen's instructions of where the potential employer would be. He was eerily quiet, lounged back with his feet kicked up.

His eyes were closed, the only movement coming from him being the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed- her only conclusion could be that he was sleeping…deeply, at that. Any irritation she could feel at finding him in such a state when they were supposed to be introduced immediately faded as she took a closer look at him.

Oh…God, help her.

This stranger…this slumbering stranger…had to be one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. He looked about her age, no more than a year or two older at the most. A strong, powerful profile merged with wonderfully sculpted features to create such a beautiful face. There was an endearing oddity to the shape of his nose, a sensual fullness to his mouth, a rugged quality to a clean-shaven jaw line. Thick lashes any girl would envy feathered against eyes whose color she wished she could see; his hair was a dusty blonde, short and close-cut. She idly wondered if it was as soft as it looked.

"Are you going to stare all morning, or will you speak any time soon?"

The deep, rumbling voice, raspy with drowsiness, startled her. She immediately flushed a beet red as she realized she had unabashedly staring. "S-sorry."

His mouth curved into a smile and he shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I take it you're Miss Sawyer?"

"Yeah. And it's Peyton."

"Alright. Have a seat, Peyton."

He waved his hand toward the various living room furniture and she obeyed, seating herself in on the sofa. She felt strangely uncomfortable with him sitting there so calmly, so still, eyes closed as if to shut out the rest of the world. She fidgeted with her hands, crossed her legs and waited for him to speak.

"I suppose I should just cut to the chase," he stated, with a slow, lazy air to his words, "I'm a writer…I work fast and sometimes erratically. I need someone to transcribe for me. You'd have to be willing to work flexible hours, and you need to be able to keep up with me. That's pretty much it. Interested?"

Sounded simple enough. Looks like those keyboarding classes in middle school were finally going to pay off. "When can I start?"

"You have any plans for today?"

She cocked an eyebrow in surprise. "Nope. Schedule's free."

"Good." Finally, as they had been languidly closed throughout their entire conversation, he opened his eyes. She finally caught sight of the gray color to his eyes. "Come with me," he continued, "I work from my room. There's a desk and computer, it should suffice." He cocked his head thoughtfully, "It's Lucas, by the way."

Lucas. It was a fitting name, she thought.

He rose from his chair, slowly making his way through the room toward the hall. She followed after him, and closer to him now, she came to realize the grey color she thought she had seen was instead a cloudy quality, fogged over. She watched the way he ran his fingers along the wall as he walked, directing himself, the way he never quite looked at her as he talked quietly about the story they would be working on, and her heart gave a strange little flutter.

She swallowed and timidly started, "Lucas…are you…?" She hesitated, not quite to finish the thought.

He turned his head in her general direction, those cloudy eyes fixed on nothing in particular. A humorless smile curled his lips. "Blind?" he asked slowly, "Yeah. Yeah, I am."


	2. Chapter 2: Show and Tell

**At First Sight**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Two: Show and Tell**

"What's up, Sawyer?"

Peyton smiled at the sound of the masculine call, looking up to be met with a cocky grin courtesy of one Nathan Scott. Following at his heels was his wife Haley and with true delight at seeing them, Peyton put a bookmark in the novel she had been reading, standing up to embrace them both. She was pulled to Nate in a gruff bear hug and she laughed as she kissed his cheek. "Not much, Nate. What about you guys?"

Nathan exchanged a look with his wife and shrugged. "Just enjoying the summer. I hear through the grapevine you've got yourself a job. Whatcha doin'?"

She shrugged a shoulder as the trio sat back down. "Just work. It's okay, and it pays well. That's all that matters."

"Ok. Be vague then."

Haley smirked at her. "Such a mystery, Peyton. Whatever could you be hiding?" she lightly teased, "A secret affair with the boss?"

Peyton flushed and by the puzzled, strangely knowing look that took over Haley's face, she knew the other girl realized she was more on target than she had thought. Peyton inwardly groaned- this illicit attraction to her enigmatic employer was going to get her in trouble someday- she just knew it.

Thankfully, she was saved from answering when Brooke came sidling up to the table, in true Davis-fashion, with Jake at her side. Peyton allowed herself a small smile at that. Brooke, sitting herself beside her best friend, snatched up the book in front of Peyton, despite the blonde's protests. Brooke eyed it wryly. "P. Sawyer, you can't be serious! This is a day to hang out with your friends and you're carrying around a book you've read a thousand times?!"

Peyton glowered at her, snatching back the book. Jake thoughtfully studied the cover, recognizing his ex-girlfriend's favorite. "The J. Luke novel again, Peyt?" he inquired with amusement.

Peyton looked over at him with a sheepish smile. She had never been a bookworm of any kind, not even much of a reader, but there was something about the author J. Luke's novel that had her fixated. She utterly adored The River, the copy in Brooke's hand worn and dog-eared despite only being a few years old. J. Luke had not published again after his debut bestseller, but Peyton, like millions of others, was impatiently awaiting his next work.

Brooke gave a wry, mysterious smile and stuffed the book into her purse. Peyton crossed her arms across her chest and glowered at her friend, but did not object.

Conversation fell away from Peyton's choice of reading material and turned to what to order for lunch. In true gentlemanly fashion, Nathan and Jake were selected to retrieve said food, regardless of any protests on their part. And so, as the two teenage boys grudgingly made their way to the front counter, Peyton watched Brooke blatantly watching, her eyes glued to the rear end of one Jake Jageleski. Unable to help herself, Peyton teased, "See something you like, Davis?"

Brooke turned to her with a pointed glare. Haley, however, met Peyton's eyes and in shared amusement, they broke out in laughter. "Could you be any more obvious, Tigger?" was Haley's add-in, still giggling softly at the indignant expression on her friend's face.

"Hmph," Brooke sniffed, glaring at them both. "If you two are done, I might give you the honor of hearing the latest gossip."

Quieting her chortling, Peyton humored her. "Alright, we'll stop. So what's the latest, oh, Queen of the Gossipmongers?"

Brooke leaned toward them, bubbling excitedly, "Word on the street is there's a new addition to Tree Hill. Rumor has it…it's Scott family numero dos, back in town."

"What…" Peyton trailed off, mouth dropping in surprise, "You mean Dan's other son…?" she turned to Haley, who looked just as shocked, "Does Nate know?"

"As a matter of fact, he does," came Nathan's reply from behind him as he and Jake came back, sliding the trays onto the table. A salad for Brooke, a chicken sandwich for Haley, burgers and fries for Peyton and the guys. If there was one thing both boys had always liked about Peyton, it was how she didn't pick at her food like other girls.

Haley, seated beside her husband, frowned in his direction. "Why didn't you tell me Luke was in Tree Hill?"

Nathan snorted. "What was I supposed to say? 'Hey Hales, did you know my asshole of a dad's bastard son is back in town? Maybe we should invite him over for a big family dinner'."

"Nathan Royal!" Haley's reprimand was genuinely appalled.

Nathan looked appropriately chastised, giving his wife an apologetic look. "Sorry, Hales. Old habit."

It took a few moments, but finally things began to click in Peyton's head. Karen Roe, Dan Scott's high school sweetheart the ass of a man had abandoned when she found out she was pregnant after graduating. Her son was Lucas Scott…how could she have not made the connection before? It was then that she also realized that when Haley had been questioning her husband, she had called the other Scott brother Luke, something that seemed awfully familiar.

"Hales, do you know him?"

The brunette nodded, gaining the interest of the entire table. "Yeah. We used to hang out. We were twelve when his Uncle Keith," she nodded toward Nathan, indicating it was his uncle as well, "Got a job in Charleston and moved them. We were pretty close, so I figured we would keep in touch. But he never gave me his address, only called a couple times. Even then, he sounded strange, and he always cut the conversation short. After that, I haven't heard from him since."

Catching the regretful tone to her friend's voice, Peyton reached out and placed her hand over Haley's. The other girl looked up at her with a sad smile, giving her fingers a grateful squeeze.

Swallowing a mouthful of his burger, Jake turned his attention to the Scotts. "So what are you guys going to do?"

Husband and wife exchanged a look, but Haley was the one to answer. "I don't know. I really don't know."

--

Lucas, as it turned out, had been spot on when he warned her he worked fast and diligently. He spoke rapidly, only stopping when he saw her particularly struggling, and even then, he was grudgingly impatient for her to get back on track. To make matters a bit more eccentric, he had a tendency to jump around in his narrative. Whatever popped into his head went into the word processor, no matter how out of place or suddenly introduced. It helped that he had an incredible memory of just his chapters consisted of, just what sections he wanted to edit or go back go continue. Therefore, for two hours, or four, or eight, depending on him, she sat at the laptop and he seated himself on a chair in the corner- he talked, she typed. But there was something else she learned within a week of working for Lucas Scott.

He was talented- very talented.

His writing was refreshing in an age of overused clichés and predicable storylines. His words were mature, but still retrained a certain type of innocence reflecting both the charm and intellect that so made up who was Lucas was. As closed-off as he seemed at times, his book was what gave her a glimpse into his inner workings. He had lost his eyes, but his words and his passion compensated as her window into his soul.

"So, how long have you been writing?"

They were in the middle of what Lucas liked to call "brunch break". There wasn't usually food involved, but it was one of the few times they stopped during a full day. His throat got dry, her fingers got tired and it was unspoken but unanimous when it came to taking leisure time. He was leaning back in his chair, arms folded behind his head as he relaxed, unbothered by her question. At least, as far as she could tell. He'd been sitting outside when she came that morning and hadn't removed the shades he had been wearing since. "Since I was about thirteen, I think. It didn't really pick up for me until a couple of years after that."

She nodded, nibbling half-heartedly at one of the muffins Karen had left for them that morning. Okay, so "brunch breaks" weren't always void of food, which was mostly Karen's fault. The woman was like a force of nature, motherly and attentive to a T. "So…"

He arched an eyebrow, mimicking, "So…"

"My friend Haley's been asking about you." She had been wondering all morning how to broach the topic, now she figured it was best just to be blunt."

His head whipped around. "Haley? Haley James?"

"It's Haley James Scott these days, actually."

He visibly tensed. "Scott? As in Nathan? She married Nathan of all people?"

"Yeah. Back in junior year."

Lucas's head fell back against the wall as he let out a low whistle. "Damn, things really have changed around here." He paused for a moment. "…she was asking about me…?"

"Yeah," she looked down, picking at the pastry in hand, "Are you…are you going to see her?"

He was quiet for so long she wasn't sure he was going to answer and then he heaved out a frustrated sigh, dragging a hand through his hair. "I don't know." He stood up abruptly, turning away from her. "Listen, I'm going to get some air. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Sure. Are you…" her concerns went unheeded as he rushed out of the room, a sinking guilt filling her stomach at the distress she had caused him, as well as a profound curiosity as to what it was he was hiding.

And you know what they said: curiosity killed the cat. Five minutes turned to ten, to fifteen and then twenty. Boredom got the best of her as she began to wander his bedroom. The room was decorated in shades of blue, its most distinctive feature being the over-crammed book shelves that took up most of its space. She idly flipped through a few volumes- he definitely had good taste- delicately running her fingers over the Braille patterns. Skimming across the spines, she stopped at the feeling of a different texture. Carefully pulling it out, she realized what made it stand out from the rest- it was a manuscript, not a published book.

Entitled the River.

"Find something interesting?"

She whirled around at the sound of his voice, intruding on her reflections. "Oh," the startled inflection to her voice brought a smile of amusement from him, "Sorry," and he shook his head.

"Its fine, Peyton. I'm sorry I took so long."

"No problem," he continued softly, "What'd you find?"

She licked her lips, hesitating for a moment, "You're…you're J. Luke?"

"In the flesh," his lips curled into a smile, enigmatic in a way that she idly wished she could read the expression in his eyes. And then gave herself a mental slap- his eyes could tell her little. It was the trained mask he cast over his face that prevented her from being able to see into him. "Surprised?"

"A little," she admitted, biting her lip as she glanced at him hesitantly. "I know you're good, but I didn't expect…"

"Appearances can be deceiving, Ms. Sawyer."

"I suppose you're right." She sat down at the edge of his bed, picking up the book once more. "So why use the penname? Why hide who you are?"

He was silent as he quietly contemplated- as least, if nothing else, she knew that thoughtful look on him- before taking a seat in the computer chair across from her. "It would have been a disaster. A blind fifteen-year-old writing books for 'grown-ups'? The public, not to mention, the press, would have a field day. I didn't want that kind of attention, on me or my family."

"That makes sense." She was quiet for a moment, and then smiled softly at him. Though she knew he couldn't see it, he always seemed to sense her expressions, as he returned it with a content curving of his lips. "So, what are we working on now?"

"I was thinking we could go back a few chapters. There were changes I was thinking about making to chapter five…"


	3. Chapter 3: Must Be Dreaming

**At First Sight**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Three: Must Be Dreaming**

Eighteen days and counting.

That was how long she had been working with and for Lucas. In the two and a half weeks since she had made his acquaintance, she had come to know more about him than she ever thought she would. Having said knowledge both thrilled and disturbed her. And on another hand, it perplexed her how much thought she was putting into this whole situation.

If she kept this up, she was going to drive herself completely mad.

But, crazy or not, she was still managing- slowly but surely- to unravel the mystery that was Lucas Scott.

(1) He was brilliant. He had a vast knowledge of literature, constantly alluding or quoting obscure authors; reflected in his collection- endless classics, books on science, philosophy, history, politics, poetry, even a romantic novelette or two. Since elementary, he had received his schooling via a private home tutor. He had been an exceptional student, if the records he had briefly shown her were any indication, finishing a year early- with honors, at that. Afterward, he had taken a year off to decide his next move- whether to go away for school or work, or stay with his family in Tree Hill. Not to mention, he nearly been eighteen when his half-sister, Lily, was born. He didn't want to miss out.

This led her to her second point…

(2) He was completely devoted to his family. He shared an open, honest relationship with his mother; having only grown-up for most of her childhood with an absentee father, Peyton often envied the closeness he shared with Karen. Then there was his stepfather, who was also his paternal uncle. The few times she had seen him, she knew Keith to be a warm, kind-hearted man that Lucas looked up to as a father figure. And with his sister…Lucas was amazing with her and little Lily utterly adored him. It made her wonder if he would be as good a father as he was a brother.

(3) He didn't keep himself as isolated as it had initially seemed. He, in fact, had a fairly active life. With his seeing-eye-dog, an Australian shepherd he called Shakespeare, he went for long walks after first waking up. By mid-morning, he and Shakespeare made their way to the town's disability center, where he met up with a personal trainer who monitored his daily workout: he ran on treadmills, lifted weights, swam laps in the pool. Three times a week, he volunteered at the same centre as an English tutor for young blind students. On weekends, he helped out Keith at the garage his uncle owned. He knew tools and parts by shape and feel, assisting his stepfather as far as he was capable. And of course, he spent most of his mornings, and afternoons, with her, working on his next book.

(4) Lucas loved to cook. He made it look easy- it still amazed her how smoothly he moved through the kitchen. He often made them lunch, and sometimes breakfast, and she stood nearby, ready at hand. Like Keith's mechanics, he knew food and his ingredients by feel, touch and smell. Occasionally, he would ask her to adjust the temperature or get him either cookery or seasonings and such that were shaped nearly the same. Not only did he enjoy what he did, he was remarkably good at it. Having lived so many years on her own, she had never eaten so consistently well as since she started working with Lucas.

(5) He held no shame, bitterness or regret over the loss of his sight. She could still remember when they finally stopped ignoring the elephant in the room, and first broached the topic, about a week and a half since they started.

"Lucas, may I ask you something?"

"Nice manners," he complimented wryly and then nodded in assent to her question, "It's a free country. Shoot."

"How did it happen? Y'know…were you born with it?"

"No. I could see as well as anyone else up until I was twelve. There was an accident. My Uncle Keith and I were hit by a drunk driver on the way to pick my mom up from the airport," he paused, stated apologetically, "Wait…I'm sorry, Peyton. Is that hard to hear, with what happened to your mom?"

Her head shot up from where she had been resting it against her hand, staring at him incredulously. Yes, she knew they had been in the same class together a few times as kids, and the news of her mother's accident had been school gossip, but she would never have expected him to remember something like that. "N-no," she stumbled out, "It's okay."

He smiled- it was warm, accenting just how handsome he really was, softening the solemn, brooding expression his face was so often set into. He continued, "Keith came out alight, but my head hit the dashboard hard. It was an odd angle- I cracked my skull and went into a coma. I eventually woke up, but something went wrong…I never regained my sight."

Her eyes widened with realization. "And then you left."

"Yeah," he sighed, surprising her with the shame she heard in his voice, "Charleston. I went, and never looked back. Until now, anyway…"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He smiled softly. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have met you."

"You never know. We could have crossed paths eventually."

"You might be right," he leaned back in his chair, giving her another of those slow, lazy smiles that never failed to give him a strange little thrill, "Fate works in mysterious ways."

With a shrug, she turned back to the computer as Lucas picked back up in his narrative.

Fate, huh? The idea that fate had decided to bring Lucas Scott into her life wasn't necessarily a bad one. Not bad at all.

--

One month, three days…

His words had slowed, grown random and soft-spoken, and she knew the quiet to mean he was deep in thought. Languidly, she stretched her arms, back arching in the effort. Tromping lazily across the floor, Shakespeare plopped down beside her, resting his head in her lap. She sighed, giving the animal a smile as she scratched behind his ears- the way he looked up at her with those big brown eyes so warmly, how could she resist?

"Are you okay?" Lucas asked her softly, cocking his head slightly in her direction, "I can practically hear you thinking."

"I thought that was more your realm of expertise about now."

He laughed softly. "I suppose you're right. But still…are you okay? You seem sad."

His brow was furrowed with worry, the corners of his mouth pulled down into a stern expression of concern and not for the first time, it warmed her from the inside-out to know he cared about her. She shrugged a shoulder. "I'm okay. I was just thinking about silly things."

"Like what? It might help to talk about it."

Peyton bit her lips. She really, _really_, didn't want to be talking to him about the fact that she was dreading fall coming and having to leave for school- leaving him. She sidestepped the topic instead with another that had been on her mind. "How do you do it, Luke? How do you write so real, so vividly?"

He sighed softly, "Peyton?"

"Hmm?"

"Come here."

It was more a gentle request than order and she did as he asked, coming to stand before him. "You mean, how do I write about things I can't see?" He rested his fingers to her cheek, and when she shyly nodded, he felt it. "I remember things. Vaguely. But mostly…I read. I absorb it. The way they describe colors and shape…the rest of it, I see it through other things." He carefully reached out, sliding his hand up to rest at her hip.

"Other things?" her breath hitched, as his fingertips slipped just below the hem of her shirt, the pad of his thumb stroking against the bare skin of her stomach. His movements were slow and careful, uncertain how she would respond. Peyton was secure in the knowledge that if the moment came when she asked him to stop, he would do so without question.

But God help her, she didn't want him to stop. She wanted him to never stop touching her.

"Hmm-mm. They say that when you lose one of your senses, all your others become all the more sharper. It's like with you," his hand lightly traced the features of her face, familiar as it was soothing. It wasn't the first time he had familiarized himself with her in such a way; he'd said before that the thing he loved the most was to feel her smile. "I know you're beautiful, just as surely as I know I breathe."

She blushed. "How do you know? You have no idea what I look like."

"Can I show you?"

When she tentatively nodded, they both knew there was no going back. He stood up slowly, facing her.

"I love the sound of your laugh. Doesn't matter whether it's one of those sarcastic chuckles or one of those giggles you pretend you don't do," he reached out to touch her face. Her nose was crinkled up in the annoyed look he had been expecting, but when he touched her, the rhythm of her breathing became just a little heavier, matching the way his was beginning to catch. He smiled.

He fingered the stray curl that fell into her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. "You smell good. I like that perfume you use. It's not too heavy, but it's still sweet. And I always know when you pass by. That shampoo you use, the smell of strawberries always follows you."

"You have the softest skin," He cupped her cheek, slowly stroking the pad of his thumb over the contours of her face. "I feel it every time you touch me. Peyton…you have no idea how good you feel, and God, you are so damn beautiful…"

He had taken to stepping closer with every word and now his proximity was agonizing. The corporeal heat of him was exquisite, the warmth his closeness was causing in her…spreading through her with a sweet, sensual slowness. He traced a finger down the curve of her cheek, letting out a breathy chuckle. "So…that's almost all the senses…exempting the obvious."

Her heart picked up double-time, thundering in her chest. He was _so _close. She hesitated, licking her lips. "What's left?"

"…taste…" he whispered, the moist heat of his breath dancing in the space between them. The tone to his voice was deep and sultry, eliciting a shiver down her spine.

"Taste…" she repeated his words, eyes focused solely on his mouth- that sinfully talented mouth so good with words, "Do you plan to remedy that one?"

He touched his fingers to her hair, stroking. "Only with the absolute consent…"

She swallowed. Did he really think she was going to stop him now? "Permission granted."

He leaned closer, so close she could feel his breath against his lips as he whispered, "You have no idea what you do to me, Peyton Sawyer. Nothing else had ever made me so scared and so excited at the same time."

His lips finally found hers.

Oh. _Oh. _

If Lucas had died right then and there, he would have gone a happy man. She was soft and warm and sweet and just so perfect. He groaned, pressing against her more firmly while still keeping the kiss gentle. A sinful slide of his mouth against hers, so good…so good…he felt like crying when they had to pull away in favor of air.

She smiled at him, lacing her arms around his neck as she kissed him again, a quiet, languorous contact, a soft press of her mouth to his. It deepened as he gently pressed her back against the bedroom door, his body molding into hers in a way that sent a thrill down her spine, slowly stirring a heat between them. His hands stroked her sides, eliciting a startled gasp from her as they skimmed upward to just barely brush the curve of her breasts in a ghostlike caress. She clutched at his shoulders, leaning further into his embrace as the warmth of him, the feel of him, enthralled her, called to her, beckoned her closer to the edges of loving passion.

They parted reluctantly once more at the need for breath and she sank bonelessly back against the door, pulling him down with her as his arms locked around her. His face pressed to the crook of her neck as his body weighed her down. He hardly remained idle, however, as his lips began to teasingly trail light, fleeting kisses down her collarbone. She tangled her hand through his hair, angling her neck to give him better access. The moment his tongue flicked against sensitized skin, something jarred her back to awareness. A hint of rationality broke through the fog of pleasure as she gently but insistently shoved at his shoulders, fighting down her desire in favor of common sense.

"Luke, stop," she whispered, tilting his head up, "This is…"

"Too fast. I know," he kissed her nose, "But wow…"

She let out a throaty laugh. "I know what you mean."

He rested her forehead against hers. They smiled, and together, they just breathed.


	4. Chapter 4: Don't Make Me Wait

**At First Sight**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Four: Don't Make Me Wait**

_Two months, one week and four days…_

"Okay. I think we ought to take a break."

His announcement was a welcome one, as they had been working for the last two hours straight. Peyton stretched as she leaned back in the desk chair, arms rising above her head as her back arched into the movement. She gave him a sidelong glance, finding him laid out comfortably on his bed, Shakespeare stretched out beside him, quietly snoring. Lucas's eyes were closed, his hand reaching out to idly scratch behind the dog's ears. She watched him for a while, his chest rising and falling with each of his breaths, calm and deep, and she took an odd comfort in his peacefulness. "Hey," she said softly, her voice above little more than a whisper in fear of disturbing him if he had fallen deeper into his rest.

His eyes peeked open and he gave her a crooked smile. "Hey."

"It's still early," she glanced at the clock, "Just barely ten. You want some coffee?"

"Sure. I'd like-"

"Straight black," she finished for him, "I remember." She wrinkled her nose at the thought. Even after all the time they had spent together, she still couldn't understand how he could like it strong.

He chuckled lightly. "Don't down it before you've tried it, babe."

"I have," she countered, halfway down the hall by then, "And I nearly choked myself to death."

As the sound of her voice faded from his hearing, Lucas tucked his arms behind his head, leaning back against the bed with a grin on his face. Of all the things he'd experienced in his nineteen years of life, Peyton Sawyer was definitely the most amazing of them.

If there was one thing Lucas realized about himself, it was that he was a man of contradiction. He had been a quiet boy, raised well and surrounded by love with his mother and uncle. When he was eight, he made the acquaintance of a sassy, warm-hearted little brunette by the name of Haley James. As a best friend, he couldn't have asked for better.

He loved his books, he loved tinkering around on cars with Keith, but most of all, he loved basketball. He was ten when he first joined a team, twelve by the time he was considered one of the best Junior League players in the state. Alongside teammate Nathan Scott, they had led their team to win the championship two years in a row.

But it was around the same time that the teasing began, when his mother revealed the truth of his paternity, when Nathan turned from friend to foe. He didn't have much time to contemplate it, however, as it was only days after he quit the team that the infamous accident happened. He spent a week in a coma, another month to rehabilitate an injured shoulder and shattered kneecap. But the one thing they couldn't give back to him was his sight.

The accident changed him. His personality did a complete one-eighty; he was angry, bitter, sad and ashamed. He withdrew from everyone, resisted his family's help at every turn as they tried to help him adjust to his disability. He went into tantrums, yelling and throwing things. His moods were violent and sudden, full of grief over what he had lost. Basketball, his books, color- a summer sunset, the leaves changing in autumn, the first snowfall of winter. He had wanted to travel, see the mountains and desert, go to Europe and Africa and Asia, visit places he had only before read about. And now, those experiences could never be his.

He passed his thirteenth birthday wanting nothing more than to erase the past year from his mind, entering his teenage years feeling like only half the boy he used to be.

One of his greatest regrets to this day was the way he shut everyone out; not just his family, but his friends as well…Haley included. He had been so ashamed of what happened to him, so deep in his self-pity he couldn't bring himself to face her. When his mother and Keith made the decision to move in a last ditch effort to save him from himself, he had his mother tell his best friend the news. She was never told of the accident, or his condition, only that he was leaving.

He had called her twice, but his guilt was eating away at him badly, and the conversations were short and awkward. After a few months, he cut off contact with her completely. Meanwhile, somewhere along the way, Charleston served as a wakeup call for him. He didn't want to give up his life- he still had it and he was suddenly, painfully, aware of just how grateful he was to be alive.

He set out to take back his life. Much to Keith and his mother's relief, he began taking lessons in Braille, grew used to his cane and learned how to handle a guide dog. He started that fall with an at-home tutor. With his teacher's encouragement, he began writing and by fifteen, his first book- published under a pseudonym- had become a bestseller.

For the six years following his accident, he focused all his energy on conditioning himself, in mind and body. At nineteen, he was in excellent physical condition with constant exercise and endurance training. He spent endless hours studying and reading, building up on his natural I.Q.; he was an exceptional scholar, well-learned and well-rounded in his education.

For six years he had lived by structure and discipline, living his life sheltered and safe. Then Peyton Sawyer came along.

He fell in love. And when he fell, he fell hard.

She threw his world and everything he knew completely off balance. He had gone for years guarding himself, keeping a certain distance between himself and the people around him, but meeting Peyton tore those barriers down one by one. And he came to realize, that for all those years, he had been so focused on keeping himself alive, he had forgotten what it was to really live.

"Hey."

The quiet sound of her voice broke through his reflections, drawing a slow, warm grin from him as he tilted his head in her direction. "Hey yourself."

He lifted himself up, coming to sit at the edge of the bed. She approached him, setting their coffee mugs on his side table. "You were pretty quiet. Whatcha thinking about?"

"You," he said simply, "How amazing you are," he smiled, "And how much I love you."

It had been a couple of weeks since they had exchanged those words, but to hear them still sent the same shock and thrill through her she had experienced the first time he said them to her. Her heart melted at his sentiment and she became abruptly aware as something shifted in the air between them. It was a change they couldn't really stop…not even if they wanted to.

They kissed lightly, languorously and he sought to deepen it, burying his hand in her curls when she suddenly pulled away. He grumbled in displeased bewilderment, sighing as she leaned away from him. "Peyton, what's wrong?"

"The dog's watching."

He was silent for a moment, slowly processing her words, before bursting into laughter. She glared at him, swatting his arm. "Shut up. It's not funny."

"I'm sorry," he managed between chortles, trying to calm down so not to irritate her any further, "Are you afraid we'll corrupt him?"

She blushed, hitting him again for good measure. "It just makes me uncomfortable, that's all."

"Alright," he chuckled again, and slapped his thigh twice. As he was trained to, Shakespeare obediently jumped off the bed and came to rest at his master's feet. Lucas scratched his ears. "Shakespeare, go lay down."

With a sleepy yawn, the shepherd did as requested, trotting out of the room in search of a comfortable place to curl up. Lucas leaned in and pressed a kiss to her nose, grinning softly as he tenderly tucked her hair behind her ear. "Better?"

"Better." Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck, lips tracing the outline of his jaw up to his ear, giving a husky whisper of his name, "Lucas…" Her voice was soft and sweet, like the wind's caress, and he was drawn into it, drowning in it. Lucas wrapped his arms around her and they fell back on the bed together, Peyton resting lightly atop his frame, no second thoughts to what they both knew they wanted.

Their kisses started soft, little more that light caresses of lips upon lips. He set their pace, kissing her gently, in no real hurry as he took the time instead to savor the feel and taste of her, as if to ingrain the memory into himself for life. Clothing soon became obstacles they could no longer stand, strewn off in random directions as they were hungry for the touch of bare flesh, for the touch of each other. Despite their urgency, their caresses were still slow, sensual, each touch of mouth and hands passionate but loving.

When they were finally reaching the point where they could take no more, Peyton gasped for breath, staring up at the man who made her feel so much, "Luke, can you…"

Her hands were running up and down his shoulders, legs shifting to rest him more comfortably between her thighs. He cocked his head thoughtfully, catching the meaning to her question. Resting atop of her, doing this could be a tricky predicament. He couldn't see her, couldn't see her body to guide himself. He could easily slip, not be unable to find the right angle or rhythm.

Some moments had been awkward enough already, but Peyton had been patient with him, knowing it was his first time. Still, more than anything, he wanted to make this good for her. He couldn't live with disappointing her…disappointing himself. He wondered if he should just admit defeat, roll over and let her take control.

"Is…is that what…you want?"

She smiled at the hesitation to his voice. As confident, as mature, as intelligent a man he was, seeing Lucas Scott shy and befuddled was certainly adorable. She reached up, stroking his cheek, hoping to alleviate his fears. "I just want you close, Luke." She wanted to feel that of him, the weight of him atop of her, the muscle and the strength of that amazing body, the pure masculinity she would know moving above her. (a/n: two girl friends looking over my shoulder as I write this and insisting on word for word…)

He nodded, quietly concentrating as he gently trailed his hands over her, tracing the planes and curves of her beautiful body, the soft skin, the angles of her limbs, the content sighs that escaped her when he found certain spots. Confidence welled up in him and he smiled. What was he so worried about? He knew Peyton. Their bodies fit so well together, like two matching puzzle pieces. He kissed her softly, unspoken agreement passing between them. She reached between them to slowly guide him into her; gasps and stifled moans followed their joining and Lucas groaned, resting his head against her shoulder as he struggled to regain his mental balance. God help him, he had never felt anything so wonderful.

Her legs hooked around his waist, a heel against the small of his back giving him his cue. Lucas let out an unsteady breath, levering himself upward and he thrust forward. Peyton's hands came to rest lightly against his hips, subtly leading him to a steady rhythm, and they moved together, aware of nothing beyond each other.

It may have been corny or cliché to say, but the truth was that he had never felt so close to another person as he did in that moment. There was a steady, slow cadence to the way they moved, the rise and fall of bodies melding together. There was a sense of loss to her for not being able to see into his eyes- not seeing the reflection of the passion, the desire, he felt, his adoration and his love- and Lucas could sense the feeling in her. He compensated by the way he whispered into her ear, keeping up a constant litany of words- how good she felt, how amazing she was, how beautiful, how much he wanted her, how he loved her, how precious she was to him. Warmth swelled in her heart every time he spoke, only working to intensify the influx of pleasure flooding her every awareness.

His heart pounded, its thundering beat keeping in time with the tempo of their lovemaking. Her nails scratched along his back, a gasping breath of "Lucas," against his skin, and he knew she was gone. He wasn't far behind, an aching pressure filling his body like nothing he had ever felt before. His head fell back, his spine arched, and he cried out her name as he fell.

It was an obscure feeling…like dying…but lying in her arms, one hand gently stroking his back, the other his hair, he felt as if he was to rise and live again. He inhaled deeply, nuzzling against her as he savored the feel of her lazy caresses. "Am I too heavy?" he murmured drowsily, not really wanting to move.

Peyton smiled, brushing her lips against his forehead. "No. I like it."

"So…was that…okay?"

She tipped up his head to kiss him softly. "It was amazing, Luke."

He gave her a wolfish grin, leaning up to catch her mouth in another kiss. "Then I say we do it again."

She squealed when he wrapped his arms around her and rolled them over, pinning her to his body as he kissed her hard. "Confident already, are we?" She laughed lightly, moaning with contentment as he started again those slow, skillful caresses, his lips trailing down to her neck, but when she caught sight of the clock, she sighed and squirmed in his embrace. "Later, Luke. We've still got work to do and I've got money to earn."

He shrugged, his concerns elsewhere, as he nibbled on the underside of her jaw. "Doesn't matter. I'll pay you anyway."

She immediately stiffened against him, shoving him away as she sat up. He stared at her quizzically, frowning with confusion. "Peyt, what's wrong?"

"I can't believe you," she hissed venomously, "I'm not your whore, Lucas."

"Peyton," he sat up, realization setting in, "I didn't mean it like that."

"I think you did," she shot back, searching the floor for her clothes.

"Baby," he struggled to get up, consequently tangling his legs in the sheets.

"Save it, Luke," her voice held a sharp, sarcastic edge, "Sorry to leave early. You can just dock it from my pay."

"Peyton!!" He finally managed to free himself, getting to his feet.

But he was too late. His only response was the closing of the door.


	5. Chapter 5: Let Love In

**At First Sight**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Five: Let Love In**

Peyton Sawyer had never been the open type, but over the years, she had started learning to let people in, little by little. Those closest to her been Brooke, of course, with her status as best friend, and Jake as her longtime boyfriend, but the one Peyton had made her main confidante over time was one Haley James. It was that fact that had the blonde showing up at the Scotts' doorstep after running from Lucas.

Nathan was quickly kicked out and Peyton was ushered over to sit on the couch, Kleenex and hot tea at hand. Every time she had turned to Haley with a meltdown, she'd never had the heart to tell the other woman she didn't like tea. It was just part of Haley's character to do those little gestures in hopes of making you a little bit better, hovering and attentive as she worried in that motherly way of hers.

"Hales, I have something to tell you. Please don't hate me, but I've been keeping something from you."

Haley looked concerned, but she smiled at the blonde reassuringly. "I could never hate you, Peyton. You're one of my best friends. You can tell me anything."

Peyton took a deep breath and closed her eyes. It was now or never. "It's about Lucas Scott. I know him, Haley…he's the one I work for. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you; he asked me not to. But it's been so long, so much has happened and Luke still hadn't said anything. I wanted to wait until ready but I really need someone to talk to…and…please don't hate me, Haley."

She cautiously opened her eyes to be greeted by Haley's wide eyes and blank expression. The longer the silence dragged out between them, the more Peyton's insecurities began to build back up. "Haley? Say something."

Haley took in a deep breath, letting it back out in a rush. "Wow."

Peyton smiled faintly. "Is that all you have to say?"

"Still processing here. That's a lot to take in." The brunette shook her head, hoping to clear her thoughts. "Okay…I definitely don't hate you, Peyton, and I'm not mad. I really wish you would have told me, but I can understand you wanting to keep your promise to him. Now, tell me what's going on."

So Peyton told her everything, editing out a few choice details as she didn't want to overwhelm her friend all at once. Haley listened attentively, nodding or commenting in the appropriate places. She reached out and took the other woman's hand when the blonde suddenly faltered, struggling to continue when she and Lucas had taken their relationship to the next level, and the resulting aftermath.

As she finished, Haley sat quietly, leaning back against the sofa as she studied her friend thoughtfully. "Alright. That was a stupid thing to say, I'll give you that. But men say dumb things all the time. Personally, I think you're scared, P."

Instinctually, Peyton opened her mouth to defend against the accusation, but she paused. If she thought about it, she knew she couldn't fully deny it. "You might have a point," she reluctantly muttered.

"I know," Haley responded cheekily, "I think this guy's gotten to you, more than Nathan and Jake ever did." Peyton grimaced at the mention of her longest, but ultimately failed, past relationships. Haley paused and then gently continued. "You're in love with him."

When Haley was right, Haley was dead right. Peyton breathed out unsteadily and she nodded. "Yeah," she whispered, "I guess I am."

She was in love with Lucas Scott. She didn't just love him…she was _in love_ with him. Why hadn't she noticed before? If you had told her three months ago that she was destined to fall for a blind, brilliant but moody, gentle but guarded writer, she would have laughed in your face.

Fate was funny that way. Go figure.

Haley smiled, reached out to pat her hand. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Peyton rolled her eyes, laughing softly. "Sure, Hales."

Haley held up a finger, smiling in a way that had Peyton prophetically dreading whatever was coming. "Just one more thing."

"What's that?"

Haley leaned forward, breathing out in a mock-whisper, "Did you use protection?"

"Oh God, Haley!!" Peyton threw her hands over her face, praying to hide the sudden blush overtaking her, "Yes, okay! I'm on the pill. I doubt Luke knows how to use a condom anyway."

Haley grinned. "I'm sure you'll get around to showing him."

"Haley!!"

"Sorry, sorry," Haley held up her hands defensively, not really looking the least bit apologetic, but deciding to drop the subject anyway.

Peyton inwardly sighed, rolling her eyes once more. She shifted around, facing the brunette as she fell serious once more. "Hales, there's something else. He's probably going to kill me for this, but I really think you should know."

Getting comfortable, she began her narrative all over again.

--

It was mid-morning the next day that Peyton finally summed up the courage to go to him. Given the time of day, without her there, she knew he was out walking with Shakespeare. She wasn't sure if having the extra time was good or bad- she had time to prepare herself, but at the same time, she had too long to worry and work herself up.

She lay prostate on his bed, curled up around herself in an almost fetal position, her knees drawn to her chest, her head pillowed against her arm. A soft, almost eerie quiet enveloped the room, only interrupted by the faint chorus of the insects outside. The curtains to the window were closed, allowing only minimal lamination from the morning sun to penetrate from through the draperies' barrier.

This is the way Lucas found her as he stepped into the bedroom, habitually soundless in his footsteps, closing the door behind him as silently as he entered. He softened with concern as he picked up the sound of her breathing, harsh and broken, recognizing her, sighing lightly as he slid off his glasses and his coat and crossing the room toward her. The bed hissed with an almost inaudible creak as he sat down beside her, pressing a hand to her back as he whispered her name, "Peyton."

She shivered under his touch, moving a little closer under his hand, a choked sob escaping her from somewhere beneath the fall of golden curls shielding her face like a bride's veil. His expression one of utter tenderness, he brushed back her stray tresses of her hair, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, feeling the tell-tale moisture clinging to her skin, the warm flush to her face. "Peyton, what are you doing here?"

"I work here, remember?"

He scoffed. "That's not what I meant."

She paused for a moment and sighed, "I know."

"Tell me what's wrong…"

She turned toward him, nestling into the strong circle of his arms, burying her face into his shirt. "I'm sorry, Luke," she murmured, her voice nearly inaudible, muffled against the fabric of his clothing, "I'm so sorry."

Lucas slowly closed his eyes, sighing softly as he sank further into the bed, tightening his arms around her. "It's okay. I'm sorry too."

"I'm so sorry I overreacted the way I did. I know it was just a slip of tongue…it wasn't really you…it was just…"

He rubbed a hand against her hip, gently encouraging, "Just what, Peyton?"

"Just that everything we'd just done really set in."

His face instantly fell into a worried expression and she knew it was for something other than the state she was in. "What we did? Do you regret it?"

Hearing the vulnerability in his voice, she was quick to reassure him. "No, no, of course not. I was just…scared."

He frowned, still not understanding what exactly she was trying to convey to him. "I scare you?"

She shook her head, looking up at him. "No, baby, that's not what I meant." She heaved a heavy sigh. "This isn't coming out right at all."

The first thing he registered was the frustration in her voice…the second was the fact that she had called him 'baby'. "You called me baby," he said softly.

The words meant to be a statement came out as more a hesitant question. She smiled, "What, do you not like it?"

He gave her a shy smile. "That's not it. Just…no one's ever called me by a pet-name before. Unless you count my mom."

She gently stroked his cheek. "Well then…we'll have to change that, won't we?"

He smiled again. He seemed to always do that around her. "Peyton, why are you afraid?"

She cuddled closer to him, seeking reassurance in the gentle strength of his body. "When we were together yesterday…I realized something." She drew in an unsteady breath. "I've never been the type to sleep around, Luke, and I can't pretend I don't have a past."

He winced at the mention she had had other lovers before him, but he only nodded silently; he had accepted it long ago…while she had been her first, at least, in this moment in time, he knew he was her only.

"No matter how much I cared about Nathan and Jake, it was just sex. I've only made love to one man, Luke, and that was you. It made me realize just what I was feeling," she sighed, nuzzling against him, "I've never felt like this and it scared me," she tilted her head up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Lucas, I am so in love with you."

Lucas felt like he could fly. He couldn't help it. His heart swelled with emotion, his pride soared and he had never felt this much love for another person as he did in that moment. He cupped her face, guiding her mouth back to his. Warm and gentle, no hesitation to let the passion ignite between the. They deepened the kiss, eager to reacquaint themselves with the taste and texture of each other.

They broke apart with reluctant need, shifting closer to one another as not only bodies pressed closer, but open in their hearts and freer in their souls than they had felt in a very long time.

He smiled, rubbing his nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss she found cutely endearing. "I have something for you."

She perked up. "Yeah," she feathered her lips teasingly against his chin, "Give to me. I love gifts."

He laughed, disinclined to leave her but needing to get up anyway as he shifted off the bed. She watched him make his way to his desk, shuffling through papers before he pulled out a manila envelope. "Open it."

She went to him, doing as he asked. She pulled out a thick stack of paper, bound together. She studied it, idly flipping through the pages, her eyes widening as realization set in. "'An Unkindness of Ravens'," she said breathlessly, "You finished it."

He grinned at her, so wide he flashed teeth. "I did."

"But…how…?"

"I went to the centre. Sam," Peyton absently recognized the name as belonging to the man in charge of the education department of the town's disability centre, "Figured he owed me one and he arranged someone to transcribe for me. I was up all night working on it."

She shook her head disbelievingly, tears unexpectedly pooling in her eyes. "You did it. I am so proud of you, Lucas."

He grinned, wrapping his arms around her until he lifted her off her feet, causing her to flounder for balance, her hands gripping tightly to his shoulders. "You like it, then?"

"Yes. I love it," she ran a hand down from his shoulder to his pectorals, encountered a change in the texture of his skin as she reached the place where he'd left his shirt collar mostly unbuttoned. Her smile faded, and he was left wondering as she slid her arms downward, her hands pressing against his chest. "Lucas? Would you mind letting me down?"

He did as she asked, still puzzled, and she remained in the circle of his arms. Her eyes followed the movement of her hands, as she traced the barest hint of a scar on his chest as it peeked its ugly head out above the collar of his shirt.

"Luke…"

"Yeah?"

"You haven't really talked about it…" she trailed off, seeming to gain confidence as she squarely met his eyes, determination shining in them, "But I want to see."

Struck speechless, he could only nod, and with his acquiesce, she began to loosen the buttons of his shirt, one by one, and as she finally reached the end, she un-tucked the tails from the waistband of his pants, letting the garment fall away from his shoulders and land on the floor with nothing more than a whisper of fabric.

The accident had included a guardrail shattering its way through the windshield, nearly tearing a twelve-year-old boy apart. Broken glass, twisted, flying metal, surgery scars, had forever marked her lover, the cost to keeping his life. She had barely paid them mind the first time they made love, not wanting to make Lucas uncomfortable in any way by lingering on them. But with the way they were baring their souls today, it wasn't something she wanted to continue to ignore.

She touched her hands to his skin once more, running her fingers along the outline of a pair of scars on his chest, moving onward to feel the long furrow down his back beneath her fingertips. At her touch, Lucas struggled to remain still, to ignore the growing of the intensity of the heat quickly growing inside, the sparks she ignited with just the simplest of contact.

The intimacy to be found in the touch was profound, as he stood in mesmerized awe.

"Does it still hurt? To remember, I mean?"

He paused and gave a tentative nod. "Sure…but I wouldn't give up what my life's like now. I made it through, Peyt. Just not in one piece."

He could feel a sadness creeping up in her and he raised his hand to brush his thumb against her cheek, chasing away the negative emotion with his touch. Her hands were now splayed across his back, their motion stroking against the tense muscles, and her proximity was closer than ever. Her hands were soft against his skin, and Lucas swallowed hard. "Peyton…I've spent so many years surviving. But since you came around…I'm really living."

Peyton shivered slightly, the husky quality of his voice against her ear oddly thrilling as his warm breath danced across her skin. She brushed her fingers along the subtle musculature of his chest, her fingertips tracing along the crisp lines of golden hair trailing down his torso. "Luke…" she trailed kisses up along his chin and jaw, nestling closer to him, "…I wanna feel you again…"

In response to the wordless plea, he gave in to what they both desired so strongly, crushing his mouth over hers with his strange mixture of gentleness and ardor. His hands rested at her hips, pulled her closer as his arms locked around her, lifting her once more as he deepened the kiss, stifling a groan as her hands stroked his chest and arms in feather-light caresses.

He pulled back, wonderfully breathless, and her forehead rested against his, her eyes closed and her face flushed. Without hesitation, he swept her into his arms, and carried her bridal-style to deposit her gently in center of the bed.

He leaned over her, and kissed her once more, loosening the buttons of her blouse to trace more of the slight body hidden beneath the garments. Hunger rang through him, for touch, for skin-to-skin contact, combining with awe for the sheer beauty of her. He ran his hands over silken skin, the angle of her hips, the swell of her breasts, the gentle slope of her back. He made quick work of the remaining clothing; her body he worshipped, stroked, caressed, and explored.

Passion, want, desire, all of them coursed through him in a tumultuous storm as he leaned over her. The heat was nearly unbearable, the ache inside consuming him, but he hesitated still. Soothing away his fears, her hands reached, cupping his face, and brought his mouth to hers.

As he sank into her, his body sang with sensation, the heady ecstasy overwhelming as instinct took precedence and he began to move over her. Their rhythm was slow and steady as a dance, the joining of their bodies speaking more than they could ever express in words.

Exerted breaths mingled between them, the drumming of their heartbeats pounding in unison, bodies entwining so tightly he felt he could imprint himself into her right then and there. He wanted so badly to find a place for himself in her heart, be sheltered there, never having to leave the warmth of her body.

His senses dulled as the sweet pain of release caused his body to jerk and tense, her name a hoarse gasp ripping from his throat, as the very foundation of his world was shaken, the very depths of his soul trembling in the aftermath of climax, shaking him to the deepest core. He felt her follow him a moment later, in that gravity-defying freefall where heaven and earth submerged and left them soaring.

They lay together, limbs hopelessly entwined, bodies still joined and held tightly in the embrace of unyielding arms. His mind pleasantly foggy, he quietly whispered to her, "I love you."

"I love you too." She ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, cradling his head from where he'd laid it against her breast. "And I don't just mean affection. I mean in love. I just want you to know that."

He smiled. "I know, but it's still good to hear."

--

A/N: Okay, folks, this story is wrapping up and there will one last part up soon. This chapter we saw Haley getting the truth and Peyton and Lucas coming to terms with their relationship. Next chapter I plan to pull together the rest of the plot. Some Leyton, but also Lucas/Haley and Lucas/Nathan, Lucas/everyone interaction. One another note, I'm starting to realize just how cheesy I can be (see above).


	6. Chapter 6: Love Will Come Through

**At First Sight**

By Alaricnomad

A/N: I hope you all love me.

1. Ear-infection - miserable baby - one grumpy, sleep-deprived, stressed Daddy Alaric.

2. Daddy staying up with cranky son + lots of coffee + pulling a writing all-nighter - First Sight's last chapter. And it just kept going and going and going…like that weird bunny.

Enjoy, while I go collapse on the nearest bed. /head hits desk/

**Chapter Six: Love Will Come Through**

He couldn't remember ever feeling happier in his life.

Morning sunlight poured through the thin curtains of window, dancing across wet skin as the couple stumbled into the bedroom in a tangle of limbs, hands roaming and lips attached between giggles. Peyton trailed soft kisses down his neck, sucking at his pulse point, causing him to groan and let his head fall back. He cupped her hips in his hands, pulling her closer to him, catching her lips in a heated kiss. She responded with a moan, pushing harder into him to grind her hips against his. Frustrated with the barriers between them, Lucas tugged at the towel wrapped around her, letting it fall to the floor. He ran his hands down familiar curves and smooth skin.

Breaking their kiss, she tucked her fingers into the cloth strewn around his waist, tugging him toward the bed. She fell back onto the mattress, pulling him down atop of her. Feeling the hardness of him against her, she arched into him. Lucas responded with a groan, lowering his mouth to hers, rocking into her. With the movements, water from his wet hair dripped onto her skin. He playfully licked away the droplets, causing her to giggle as she wrinkled her nose at the tickling sensation. They shared a few light, sweet kisses, Peyton reluctantly pulling back after a few minutes. She smiled as he pouted, sensing her withdrawal.

She pecked his lips one last time, coaxingly commenting, "As much as I'd love to continue this, baby, we really need to get ready."

Lucas let out a long, theatrical sigh, but he obeyed as he rolled off her. She did have a point. According to the automated voice on his bedside clock, they were already half-an-hour late. They may, or may not, have gotten a little preoccupied in the shower. Mentally sidestepping that the water had gone cold by the time they were done, of course. He toweled off, listening to the quiet sounds and rustles indicating Peyton getting dressed. He felt around, pulling on the clean boxer-briefs and undershirt she had left him at the end of the bed, lazily lying back to patiently wait.

He contently closed his eyes and listened, hearing the occasional click of hangers in the closet, the shuffle of feet as Peyton walked across the carpet, the sound of the hairdryer echoing from the nearby bathroom. There were her soft footfalls as she came back to his room, the unzipping of what could only be her makeup bag. He smiled. In the last week, she had only spent the night a handful of times, but already the sounds of a morning routine felt familiar and comfortable, as if they were meant to be part of his life. He deeply hoped they were.

Fingertips grazed down his forearms, her thumb idly rubbing against his elbow as the bed shifted to accommodate her weight, Lucas feeling the warmth of her as she sat beside him. He reached out to take her hand, raising it to his lips. He heard her sigh of content, a quick kiss to his cheek.

Peyton had a strange fascination of helping him get ready in the morning. To give him some degree of independence, Karen made a habit of sorting his clothes into outfits for the day, grouping them together when she hung them up so he could make an effort to dress himself. Peyton liked to put them together for him; she liked to help him shave, to comb his hair out straight. Lucas humored her; he didn't really understand it but he couldn't deny liking the feel of her hands on her. Who was he to refuse her?

With his lips constantly twitching as he fought back a grin, he indulgently sat there and moved as she requested. Before long, he was done up in jeans, one of his more comfortable polo shirts, socks on, boots laced up, as she attacked his hair with a comb. "You really need to get this cut," she mumbled to him, attempting to part the overgrown locks before gelling it the way he liked.

"I'll ask Mom later," he replied with a nonchalant shrug. It was usually his mother who took care of his appearance for him- when it came to shaving and his hair, anyway. It wasn't like he could see himself, but he would make an effort not to look like a scruffy vagabond when Peyton took him out in public.

Attempting to distract her with kisses, he was again discouraged with another teasing reminder that they were late. He took her hand and kissed it, rising to his feet to join her, ready to face the day.

--

The silence between the four teenagers waiting at a table in Karen's café was uncomfortable and stifling. Brooke fidgeted anxiously in her chair, fingers tapping rhythmically against the tabletop. Beside her, Jake reached over to take her hand, halting her restless movements. Se looked up at him and he gave her as reassuring a smile as he could, its effectiveness dimed by how clearly nervous he was himself.

The shared tension, however, was most prevalent in the married couple across from them. Nathan was clearly displeased, scowling as he slumped down in his chair, arms folded across his chest with defiance. His wife, on the other hand, was squirming with anticipation, her eyes constantly darting to the door every time the bell rang to indicate the arrival of a new customer.

Her patience finally won out when their expected company stepped into the café. Each of their gazes followed one another to land on a tall, blonde man- noting the sunglasses he wore- one hand holding the leash to a quiet, spotted shepherd at his feet, the other arm-in-arm with their Peyton. She smiled as she spotted her friends. With a gentle nudge in the right direction, both she and Shakespeare led Lucas toward them.

The awkward silence that followed was broken when Haley hesitantly rose from her seat. She approached her old friend, biting her lip with trepidation. She reached out to him, hesitated, and then dropped it again, indecisive.

Sensing her proximity, Lucas cocked his head toward Peyton, his brow knitting together quizzically. She responded to his unspoken question, whispering into his ear the identity of her person standing before him. He brightened, "Haley…"

There was a quiet, barely audible, "Hey, Luke," and his mouth stretched into a slow smile, reassuringly answering. "It's alright, Hales. I don't bite."

His words rumbled with a deep, rich timbre so unlike the little boy she had once known, but his voice was gentle, his smile genuine, and Haley stepped into his arms without question. She clung to him, tears welling up as he held her tightly, his embrace strong and comforting. "Lucas Eugene Scott, where the hell have you been?"

He chuckled softly. "It's a long story. I've missed you, Hales."

"I missed you too, you big idiot." She pulled back, sniffling as she glanced up to take a good look at him. She cupped his chin, tilting his head toward her, examining the features of the boy-turned-man. "You've changed," she murmured quietly, more to herself than anyone else.

"And you haven't?" He paused for a moment and then held up his hands, letting them hover, briefly brushing his fingers against her cheek. He tilted his head questioningly, asking for permission she wasn't sure she was supposed to give. "Haley?"

Confused, Haley shot a look toward Peyton, who smiled at her, gesturing as she traced a finger along her own nose, to her cheek and jaw-line. Lucas spent so much time around people comfortably familiar with him, that he sometimes forgot others may not be able to immediately pick up on the subtleties of his gestures.

Haley seemed to catch on, placing her hands over his to guide them to her face. Wearing an expression of thoughtful concentration, Lucas gently explored, taking in the more angular definitions that came with womanhood, smiling as he encountered familiar dimples, or felt her twitch when his light touch tickled.

He brushed a thumb against her cheek, humming to himself. "You're really grown up, haven't you, Hales? You've become so strong. Beautiful too." he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as Haley blushed at his words. "Nathan's lucky to have you."

Haley smiled, feeling dangerously close to crying again. Lucas took her hand, squeezing it gently; the two and Peyton proceeded to sit down, Lucas at the end the girls on either side of him, Shakespeare quietly settling at his feet. Releasing Haley's, he sought Peyton's hand and she responded, their fingers entwining quite comfortably from where they rested them atop the table. Nathan eyed their joined hands dubiously, Haley smiled, Brooke looked apprehensive, but Jake was open-mouthed and astonished.

"Umm…how in the world did you…?" he trailed off, unable to finish his words.

"Read a person?" Lucas offered, "Hidden talents of the blind man. It's just part of my charming mystique." He was teasing, turning to his girlfriend with a flirtatious tone, and Peyton whacked his chest. "Ow," he pouted exaggeratedly, "What was that for?"

"You know what," she quipped back, glancing toward the rest of their company. "I know this is over-do, but I guess introductions are in order. "Everyone, as you know, this is Lucas. Lucas, this is," she took his hand, gesturing in the general direction of each person she named, "Jake, Brooke, you know Hales, and…Nathan."

Lucas nodded, mentally storing away the information, knowing he could come to recognize the person by their voice once he sorted out who was who; it would help to know from where each voice was supposed to come from. "Nice to meet you all."

There was a charm to his smile, his usual solemnity softening with the way being with Peyton over the months had built up his personal confidence. Brooke caught up with it, grinning, "My, my. Peyton told us a lot about you, but she didn't mention that she'd snagged such a hottie. Broody but charming. Go, P. Sawyer."

Lucas laughed. "Even if there were more women at the table, you could only be the one and only Brooke Davis. Peyton's talked about you too."

"Only good things I hope," Brooke cast a smile in her best friend's direction, easing Peyton's fears that Lucas's…uniqueness would make all of her friends uncomfortable. Two down, two to go…

Jake cleared his throat, shifting his eyes toward his ex-girlfriend, sending the message that he would at least make an effort. "It's nice to finally put a face to the guy who's been making Peyton smile so much over the past couple of months. That's definitely got you some brownie points, man."

Three down…

Lucas nodded, catching onto the vibe the other man was directing to him. If there was one thing they would have in common, it was a shared desire to see Peyton Sawyer happy. "So…guys…you watch the last Duke game? I can listen to the commentary, but you gotta tell me what it's like to see those slam-dunks."

--

It took some time, but eventually things began to relax and flow more freely around the table. Jake and Lucas were deep in an animated conversation about the college basketball, even Nathan coaxed into throwing in a comment here and there. Brooke had shuffled her way over to Peyton to engage in girl-talk, soon having her best friend blushing fiercely with her suggestive comments. Peyton playfully smacked her at a few particular risqué words, Haley wrinkled her nose at thinking over the boy she once considered her brother in such a fashion, and if you glanced over, you could see the tips of Lucas's ears go red as he accidently overheard.

It wasn't exactly an everyday occurrence for his girl to be asked how he was in bed, with him just a few seats down.

As if sensing the group was finally at ease with each other, Karen approached them, smiling as she saw them interacting. "Morning, kids."

Peyton was the first to glance up at her, returning her smile. "Hey, Karen."

"Hello, honey. Can I get you anything?" she nodded her head toward her tablemates, letting them now the request involved all of them.

Lucas propped his head up on his elbow, nodding thoughtfully. "Breakfast would be great, Mom. Some coffee, too."

The table slightly creaked as someone jumped, catching attention as Peyton caught brief looks of surprise, Lucas left confused. "Something wrong, guys?" she remarked, humor coloring her voice.

Brooke and Jake looked a little out-of-place that they hadn't associated the Karen from one of their favorite restaurants with the Karen rumors named Lucas Scott's mother. Nathan looked a little uncomfortable; bothered that he found himself in the company of not only his illegitimate brother, but his mother as well, the girl his father had left behind.

Taking them out of the hot seat, Karen inquired of her son's girlfriend, "Your usual, Peyton?"

"Sounds good."

Following her lead, the others echoed out their own breakfast orders, Karen patiently taking them down on her order-pad. As her friends finished, Peyton looked around. "It's a little empty in here. Did we miss the morning rush, Karen?"

"Hmm-mm. You were a little late for that." Karen arched an eyebrow amusedly, "Funny. My son's never been one to sleep in."

Both Peyton and Lucas flushed, Lucas giving his mother a bashful smile. "Yeah…things happen."

"I'm sure they do," Brooke slipped in coyly and laughter rang, embarrassing the lovers all over again.

--

The meal was soon over, plates and silverware stacked to the side, debates over how to split the bills. Lucas leaned forward in his chair, resting his chin in his hand as he contently listened to the conversation around him. He smiled as he felt Peyton's fingers curl around his wrist, the pad of her thumb slowly rubbing circles against his palm. He responded by shifting himself, looping his arm across the back of her chair, stroking her shoulder.

From nearby, Haley watched them, watched the way they seemed so comfortable together. She watched the natural way he wrapped an arm around her, and Peyton leaned into him, trusting and at ease being so close to him. She watched as he smiled down at her, Peyton returning the expression as she raised her hand to his face. She stroked his cheek, gently guiding his mouth to hers. Their lips met in a soft kiss, a low murmur of content sounding from Lucas as he combed his fingers through her hair.

They pulled away with matching smiles, Lucas resting his forehead against Peyton's before he spoke, "Haley, would you like to go for a walk?"

More than eager to accept the less-than-subtle invitation to talk in private, Haley gave her husband a look with his jaw clenched and his expression turned dark. She put a hand on his knee warningly and looked back to her friend. "Sure, Luke."

With a nod, Lucas stood and with a soft-spoken command, the dog dozing beneath his chair was alert and ready, leading him around the table. As he passed, Lucas ran his hand over first Peyton's chair and then her own, holding it out to her, palm side up. Haley took it, letting him help her to her feet and together they made their way out of the café.

They were watched as they left and began their trek down the street; watching as they disappeared around the corner, Brooke turned back to Peyton, bubbling with curiosity. "_Well?"_

Peyton looked up at her nonchalantly, hiding her smirk behind her cup as she took a drink from her coffee. "Well, what?"

Brooke rolled her eyes at the blonde's coy response. "Is it weird at all? With him being…you know?"

"Not really," Peyton looked thoughtful as she sipped from her mug once more, "Things aren't bad, just different. Lucas is…he's hard to describe. He can't use his eyes, but at the same time, he sees the world in this incredible way, in ways I could never think of, and he just blows my mind. He's brilliant and he's intense and he's gentle. The way he treats me…" Peyton shook her head, unable to help the dazed, dreamy look that crossed over her face, "He's just beautiful, Brooke."

She looked back up to see Brooke quietly shaking with laugher, Jake grinning mischievously on the other side of her.

"What?"

Brooke sighed, reaching out to pat Peyton's cheek. "You've got to be really into him to sound that cheesy."

Peyton attempted to glare at her, but failed, unable to stop the way her mouth curled up into a bright smile.

--

"I'm sorry."

Haley looked up at her companion, as they strolled aimlessly through a nearby park. She'd noticed that once they were alone, his personality seemed to shift. In the café, he had been charming and witty; out here, he had fallen quiet and serious. She realized that his behavior back at the restaurant was an effort to gain their acceptance, to distract them from his disability and learn to trust him at Peyton's side. Both sides of the real Lucas, the one beside her thoughtful, solemn and deep. "You don't need to be," she replied gently.

"I still am. I hid things from you, and I left without a word. That's got to violate the best friend code."

"Definitely," she patted his arm, "But you were forgiven a long time ago, Lucas Scott."

He inhaled, letting the breath out in a heavy rush. "I love you, Haley. That's…never changed. I just wanted you to know that."

A tear came to her eye despite herself and she wiped it away, glad he couldn't see her sentimentality. "I love you too." She smirked. "But I bet you say that to all the girls. I hear you've been throwing it around a lot lately."

He looked away, blushing shyly. "Yeah."

"For the record, I think it's great. Peyton seems happy. More Peyton-like than she's been in a long-time."

"Peyton-like?"

She glanced at him. "I'm sure you know by now, but Peyton's a really guarded person. She doesn't open up very easily, and even when she lets you close, she still doesn't let you all the way in. She's different with you. More relaxed. More trusting."

"She does the same for me. I feel more comfortable and more content with her than I've ever felt before."

"I'm happy for you both. You two definitely deserve it."

He stared at her for a moment, seemingly turning over thoughts in his head. "What's up going on with you, Hales? I don't mean it in a bad way, but you feel like you're just glowing."

She smiled, linking her arm through his. "You're the first to know, so you can't say anything until I talk to Nathan, but…I'm pregnant, Luke."

"Wow," he replied, awed by her news, "That's great, Hales."

"I'd like you to be the godfather, if that's okay with you."

"I'd be honored. But I was wondering if you would do something for me too."

"What's that?"

"I need someone to help me with my new book. The plot's all figured out in my head, but I haven't done anything solid yet."

"I don't mind, but what about Peyton?"

"Mmm-mm. Not when it's about her."

She smiled, squeezing his arm. "So tell me about this book."

He cocked his head a little, giving her an enigmatic smile. "It all starts with a boy and a comet…"

--

Gravel crackled beneath the weight of wheels, Nathan's head rising in time to see him and Haley's car pulling up to the Rivercourt, his wife at the wheel. His brother in the passenger seat.

Still using his lead dog, Lucas got out of the car, making his way toward the bleachers. He sat beside his little brother, disconcerting the younger as he was missing his glasses, eyes clouded and blank as they stared sightlessly into the distance.

"We don't have any reason to hate each other, you know."

Nathan sighed, looking away but murmuring in agreement. "I know. It's just…when I found out who you really were." He shrugged his heavy shoulders. "I was confused, and insecure, and I took it out on you. I was a kid."

"Yeah."

"…I was jealous…"

"Jealous? Why the hell were you jealous? You were the one that had everything."

Nathan shifted uncomfortably, but still felt compelled to answer. "When we were on the courts, we were a team. We were evenly matched, but it didn't matter. We had fun. We were friends. But when we learned the truth, things changed. Basketball was the only thing that got Dan to even notice me. Knowing you were just as good…that you were as much his son as I was…you were suddenly competition."

Lucas snorted. "Trust me. You haven't any reason to envy anything about me anymore. I'm not exactly rival material.

"I know," the brunette kicked at the ground, stirring dirt with the toe of his shoe, "I've tried to forget the whole thing. I felt guilty when you left, like maybe it was my fault. You came back, and the feelings just came up again. It's childish, but…there it is."

Lucas nodded thoughtfully, but didn't say anything. A long, stilted silence stretched out between and the more time passed without words, the more uncomfortable Nathan became. He was debating getting up and walking away when his brother finally spoke.

"I don't hate you, Nathan. But I don't know you either. And family's important. Dan can go to hell, but Haley's mine, and that extends to you. So…we'll give it a chance?"

"Yeah." They shook on it and Nathan smiled genuinely for the first time since they had reunited.

"One more thing," Lucas told him.

"Yeah?"

"Haley. You might be married, but if you ever hurt her, I hurt you. Are we clear?"

"Crystal."

--

His lips met hers and the kiss was sweet, soft as a whisper and gentle as the brush of a spring breeze. His hands led her body to part with her clothing, baring delightfully bare skin to his eyes, calloused hands caressing as reverently as if kneeling before a temple to a goddess.

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, Peyton's hands tangling in his hair to hold him closer, nimble fingers stroking gently against his scalp, lips nibbling at his ear, "Luke…"

Lucas wrapped his arm around her hips, hauling her to him and he kissed her once more, ardent in his passion, "This still feels so unreal. I can't believe you found me. I feel like I've waited forever for you."

She slipped her arms around his neck, reaching to free him of his shirt, and then his bottoms, "I'm here now," she stroked his cheek, arching against him, "Come to me, Luke."

Lowering her to the bed, sinking home, Lucas did just that. And in the slow throes of making love to her, he came to a realization. They had found each other, whether fate or circumstance, and he knew now, he never wanted to let her go. Soon enough- too soon, for he felt the need to be one with her always- he gave himself over, surrendering himself to her, mind, body and soul.

Peyton languorously stroked his back, sweat-soaked skin sleek beneath her fingertips, catching sight of his thoughtful expression as they lay together afterward, "What is it, baby?"

He pressed a kiss to her hand, "I got something in the mail this morning."

"What was it?"

"Something special." He kissed her palm once more, "An acceptance letter to NYU."

Her eyes snapped open from where they had languorously closed. "NYU," she whispered incredulously, "As in New York University? The school I'm starting at next week?"

"The very same."

She smiled, hugging him to her tightly. "You're coming with me!?"

"As long as you'll have me. They've got a decent program for blind students. I should be just fine."

She fit her lip, running her fingers along the forearm wrapped around her, hesitating despite how much she wanted to believe. "Are you sure? It's a long way from home."

"Not really," he kissed her softly, "You're my home now."

She sighed, nestling back against him, "I'm not dreaming, am I?"

"No. We haven't gotten to that part yet," the words had barely left his mouth before he released a heavy yawn, "However much you've exhausted me."

"Sleep then, love," she smoothed his hair back against his forehead, brushing a kiss against his cheek, "You're home."

In three months time, they had completely changed each other's worlds. To the outside world, it might have seemed too quick, too rushed, too hasty, but to them, it felt like perfection. They both knew they had found that thing they'd been searching their entire lives for. At first sight, they had found their home.

At first sight, it was true love always.

_End_

--

A/N II: Incredibly cheesy and cliché ending, but there you go, my dear readers. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Special thanks again for all your amazing reviews. Wonderful feedback is the fuel needed to continue steering a writer toward their full potential.


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